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<title>it still hurts underneath my scars (from when they pulled me apart) by zerogravityzerochill</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29231994">it still hurts underneath my scars (from when they pulled me apart)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/zerogravityzerochill/pseuds/zerogravityzerochill'>zerogravityzerochill</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Exiled TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt Toby Smith | Tubbo, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, I want them to fucking talk about this goddamnnit, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Toby Smith | Tubbo Needs a Hug, TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), discussion of suicide</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:06:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,906</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29231994</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/zerogravityzerochill/pseuds/zerogravityzerochill</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tubbo doesn't want to think about it. <i>He doesn't want to think about it</i>. He wants to believe that this can be it, that they stretch this moment all the way to oblivion, that there are not shadows clawing at their hearts and chasms, formed by months of separation and misunderstanding and bitterness, to be bridged. He wants them to be able to rest, to be <i>okay</i>, but-</p><p>(<i>But Tommy had been so prepared to die yesterday, and didn't even seem to mind. He stood on ledges and gazed at the fall for a beat too long. That there was a tower at Logstedshire, a damning, horrible tower, that had to have been built by someone, that had been built with a specific, awful purpose-</i></p><p>  <i>"If you don't come down," Tommy had snarled at Dream, "I'm going to kill myself."</i></p><p>  <i>There had not been an ounce of fear in his expression, and instead of inspiring confidence like usual, it made cold dread pool in Tubbo's stomach.)</i></p><p>But they are not okay. Tubbo knows this, deep in his chest. They are not okay, and Tommy least of all.<br/>-----<br/>Or,</p><p>After Jan. 20th, Tommy and Tubbo discuss some things.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Toby Smith | Tubbo &amp; TommyInnit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>726</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Found family to make me feel something, MCYT Fic Rec, Purrsonal Picks</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>it still hurts underneath my scars (from when they pulled me apart)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic was not planned at all but the hath angst gremlin seized me so I fucking speedran this between classes.</p><p>Title is from "Hoax" by Taylor Swift</p><p>Inspired by this <i>amazing</i> comic by winter-mornings on tumblr: https://winter-mornings.tumblr.com/post/642145837163675648/we-should-talk</p><p>Come visit me at @zero-gravity-zero-chill on tumblr!</p><p>TW: THIS FIC WILL CONTAIN VERY BLATANT DISCUSSION OF SUICIDE, PREVIOUS SUICIDE ATTEMPTS, AND SUICIDIAL THOUGHTS. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.</p><p>Comments, kudos, keysmashes, and screaming are all welcome! &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The night is quiet, but Tubbo's thoughts are very, very loud.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is not a surprise. They've been loud for quite some time, swimming with doubts and fears and frazzled energy for months now, and he didn't expect them to calm down just because of one day - even if today did end up going much, much better than they expected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy doesn't seem to be having any problem at all, Tubbo thinks, smile twitching at his lips as he looks over at his best friend, contentedly sprawled out on the bed next to him. They've crashed at Snowchester for the night, sipping at cocoa and chattering incessantly for hours, anything to convince themselves that this was </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span>, that they won, that they don't have anything to fear now other than the demons in their heads. Tommy isn't asleep - Tubbo knows him too well to think that - but there's a lazy satisfaction in every line of his body, in the creases and bags of his face that are finally beginning to fade.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's ironic, then, that the boy that rests so peacefully next to him is the cause of the thoughts richocetting in Tubbo's skull.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo doesn't want to think about it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He doesn't want to think about it. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He wants to believe that this can be it, that they stretch this moment all the way into oblivion, that there are not shadows clawing at their hearts and chasms to be bridged, formed by months of separation and misunderstanding and bitterness. He wants them to be to rest, to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>okay, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(</span>
  <em>
    <span>But Tommy had been so prepared to die yesterday, and didn't even seem to mind. He stood on ledges and gazed at the fall for a beat too long. There was a tower at Logstedshire, a damning, horrible tower, that had to have been built by </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>someone</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>, that had been built with a specific, awful purpose-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"If you don't come down," Tommy had snarled at Dream, "I'm going to kill myself."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>There had not been an ounce of fear in his expression, and instead of inspiring confidence like usual, it made cold dread pool in Tubbo's stomach</span>
  </em>
  <span>.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But they are not okay. Tubbo knows this, deep in his chest. They are not okay, and Tommy least of all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn't want to ask about it. He doesn't want to know the extremes his best friend was driven to, that he was in as much pain as Tubbo feared, that he had been gripped by the same resigned despair that trapped Tubbo in those bleak minutes in the vault- he doesn't want to </span>
  <em>
    <span>know-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>But he needs to. Needs to know just how bad it was, so that he can make better, so that he can keep Tommy from slipping away again-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(</span>
  <em>
    <span>He has lost Tommy too many times. First to exile, then to seeming death, then to anger and hatred. He cannot lose him again</span>
  </em>
  <span>.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He needs to know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Tommy?" He whispers, and Tommy hums back in response. "Can we talk?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy's eyes (</span>
  <em>
    <span>blue, but still just a touch of grey-</span>
  </em>
  <span>) flick open at that, looking over at Tubbo with faint curiosity, then a spark of apprehension, before smoothly covering it up with mischief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We're talking right now, dumbass." He quips, smirk easy and teasing, and Tubbo does not laugh, because his chest is too heavy for such light sounds as laughter. He swallows as he keeps his gaze firm, steady and unwavering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Tommy</span>
  </em>
  <span>." He says, tone hard and without a trace of playfulness. He knows Tommy hears it, because he pales and flinches (</span>
  <em>
    <span>small, but still enough to make guilt rise Tubbo's gut</span>
  </em>
  <span>), and this time his gaze is somber and wary when it meets Tubbo's, because this is going to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>conversation, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and he's never good at those.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sorry," he mumbles, and Tubbo hates, hates, hates himself for the fear he can now see trembling in his best friend's shoulders and swimming behind his eyes. There's a part of him that wants to call all of this off immediately- but no, he cannot leave this be. It's been left alone for far too long.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He watches Tommy take a deep, shuddering breath - bracing himself - before he checks back into the conversation. "What did you want to talk about?"</span>
</p><p><span>And Tubbo doesn't really know what he's supposed to say, because there is no gentle way to ask your friend if- if- </span><em><span>gods, </span></em><span>if they were going to commit fucking </span><em><span>suicide- </span></em><span>but</span> <span>he needs to, he has to, he has to find some way, so before he can think any better of it Tubbo finds blurring out in a rush-</span></p><p>
  <span>"Were you really going to kill yourself?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Tommy freezes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment he stares at Tubbo with wide, shocked eyes, as if he can't quite believe what he just heard. Then he chuckles, a small, terrified thing, gaze flicking around frantically as if looking for an escape, and his next words are halting, incredulous, trembling on the edge between disbelief and the fear of somebody who's been caught where they shouldn't.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"W-What? Tubbo, I- I don't- I don't know- what the fuck are you on about-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"In the vault!" Tubbo snaps, something dangerously close to hysteria setting in, making his words shake. "In the vault, you told Dream that if he didn't come down, you were going to kill yourself! Did you- don't tell me you-" He cuts himself off, hangs his head, takes a deep breath to collect himself, and when looks back up he searches Tommy's face desperately, for an answer, for reassurance - something he knows, deep down, he isn't going to find.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Did you mean it? Were you really going to-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He cuts off again in order to stop the sob that had been creeping up his throat, and he watches Tommy's face shift, expression going from paralyzed like a deer in headlights, to panicked, and eventually to careful, unreadable blankness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Of course not," he says, and his tone is too even, too forced, too obviously a lie and Tubbo is going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>scream- </span>
  </em>
  <span>"Of course not, it was just a bluff- you know me, always talking big-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shut up!" Tubbo cries, tears spilling over as Tommy's jaw snaps shut. "Stop- stop </span>
  <em>
    <span>lying! </span>
  </em>
  <span>I know you, Tommy, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> you, I can tell when you mean what you say and- and-" He's heaving, drowning on dry land, because Tommy </span>
  <em>
    <span>meant it, </span>
  </em>
  <span>because this is Tubbo's every nightmare come to life, and he crashes forward into his best friend's chest, ignoring the way he startles and his hands hover frantically in the air, wanting to comfort so badly but uncertain of how.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I saw the tower, Tommy." Tubbo hiccups, and he doesn't miss the way Tommy stiffens, how his breath hitches underneath Tubbo's head. "I saw the tower at Logsted, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>saw</span>
  </em>
  <span> it, and there's only one thing you can do with a tower like that, and I- gods, I thought you had-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's pretty sure Tommy is crying now, judging by the way he shudders and curls tighter in on himself, arms wrapping around Tubbo's shoulder not just to comfort but to seek it themselves, and he's trembling like a leaf in the wind, like he'll break at any second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You- you </span>
  <em>
    <span>saw?</span>
  </em>
  <span>" He gasps, quiet and watery, and Tubbo nods, sniffling, because there are no words that can describe the frigid terror of the realization, the all-consuming grief that had overwhelmed him in the days afterwards, at the knowledge that Tommy </span>
  <em>
    <span>was gone, gone by his own hand, and it's all your fault-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>For a while, there is nothing to say as they stay there, huddled together on the bed and letting their tears speak for them. It could have been moments or hours or years later when Tubbo's tears finally came to a stop, feeling torn apart and hollowed out like a dried up canyon. They've settled into some mockery of peace, when Tommy speaks again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's easy to say I didn't mean it." He says, and when Tubbo pulls back to look at him, his eyes are glazed and distant, staring not at Tubbo but at something thousands and thousands of miles away. Tubbo watches as he takes in a shuddering breath, holding an arm over his stomach like he's going to be sick.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That- that I was just being melodramatic, overreacting, trying to prove a point, there's no way I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> going to- to do it." Tubbo isn't sure which incident he's referring to. Probably both of them. Tommy squeezes his eyes, face screwing up in pain. When he opens them again he looks directly at Tubbo, and his eyes are so open, so heartwrenchingly sad and vulnerable and </span>
  <em>
    <span>broken </span>
  </em>
  <span>that it nearly sets Tubbo off again, but all he can do is lay there, breathless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy looks away, something like shame coming over him. "But it wouldn't be the truth. Because the truth is, I built that tower knowing full well what I going to do with it when I finished. When I made that threat in the vault, it wasn't empty one." He makes a choked noise, as if he's just coming to this realization himself, and he presses his face into the pillows, like he can't bear to be seen, breath hitching and coming in short, rapid bursts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I was really going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>kill myself</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Tubbo." He sobs, voice breaking and Tubbo breaks with it, sitting up and reaching to haul his best friend's head into his lap, carding his fingers through blonde locks as he shakes and cries and tries to be strong enough for both of them. "I was, I was going to, and- and I know it's fucked up, and selfish, and-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Stop." Tubbo commands, leaning to press his forehead to Tommy's, his own tears dropping down to mix with Tommy's. "Don't you dare- don't you ever apologize, Tommy, not for this. Gods, I'm so, so sorry-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't." Tommy shakes his head, or as well as he can, hand coming to cup behind Tubbo's head. "Don't you- please, don't."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Tubbo lets it slide, for now, even if he knows the guilt won't subside for long. "Please," he says instead. "Tommy, please, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please </span>
  </em>
  <span>tell me you don't- that you won't-" His voice quivers uselessly, because he needs to know, needs it more than he needs air to breathe, because he couldn't go on if Tommy still wanted to die.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Please tell me you won't leave. I can't lose you again."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy shakes his head again, and there's a new determination in voice, beneath the tears and hoarseness, and it sounds like heaven's music to Tubbo. "I won't. I swear, I won't. I'll- I'll get better, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>to get better. I won't leave you ever again."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Tubbo knows that's a promise they're going to have to work to keep, that this conversation is far from over - that there's still a long, long road ahead of Tommy and ahead of himself, as well. That, at some point, they're going to have to truly talk about what happened in exile, about what led Tommy to have those thoughts, about what led Tubbo to have his.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They are so, so fucked up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo has Tommy in his arms, and Tommy says he wants to get better, and they're still </span>
  <em>
    <span>here, </span>
  </em>
  <span>together and alive and not-quite-whole but just whole enough, and maybe, just maybe-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe one day, they will be whole again.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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